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A Gala of Events

Chapter 2

Notes:

Happy New Year, everyone!!!!
Here's the second part of the story. I hope I did justice to your ideas, Fernanda.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

For Taylor Zakhar-Perez, the night had been going lovely.

With months attending only fashion events, Taylor had almost missed coming to galas like today. If he was being honest, he was very rarely invited into events as big as this. But this year, he had made a mark on the industry. Well, atleast he beleived it so, considering he himself named it his comeback year. But then again, he was never that big of an actor. He was a model - a very sought after model, and he was proud of that.

However, when he had gotten the invitation to attend the gala, he was ecstatic.

And extremely nervous. Usually he used his charm as a sheild to calm his nerves down whenever they would pick up. He knew just what to say and what to do, to make the press focus on his face and not on his trembling hands. It had always worked for him, and even today when he was standing a feet apart from Natalie Portman, he had to stop himself from fan-boying over her.

This wasn't a place to joke around, rather it was the Academy Museum. Shit had another class over here.

Hence, he was very, very surprised to find a panting Kaia Gerber almost dragging him away from the washroom he was about to visit.

Taylor had never talked to her. He only knew he was Nick's co-star in Bottoms, a film he was yet to watch. Upon speaking of Nick, his eyes immediately searched the crowd again, for the seventh time. When Taylor had returned from his individual shoot, his eyes had automatically searched for Nick, but he couldn't find him. It had almost been an hour since they had parted ways, and he knew that they had promised to click pictures together later. For a few monents he had thought that Nick had left early again, but he shook the thought away because he knew Nick was very serious with his promises.

This was why Kaia Gerber was the last person he had expected would come to him, and the list was pretty long. Taking him to a little space beside the staircases, Kaia toom the glass of wine from his hands and chugged it down in a go.

"Um," Taylor murmurs, looking at Kaia with a little concern, "Are you okay?"

The voice seemed to take Kaia out of the world she was living in. She hastily extends her free hand forward .

"Kaia Gerber."

"Taylor Zakhar-Perez." Taylor says, shaking her hands.

"I know who you are." Kaia says as a matter of factly. Taylor could see that a very thin line of sweat had already formed on her forehead.

Felling compelled, he asks. "Is everything okay, Kaia?"

"No!" Kaia almost screams out in anger, before she gets her voice a pitch lower. "I mean, - look, are you busy right now?"

Taylor's shoots were done; he had met a healthy amount of people and had left impressions on many. Taylor tries to count mentally, then gives up almost immediately. "No." He says.

"You need to go upstairs."

Taylor was sure that he was not drunk, so he must have heard her right. But he didn't know what she was talking about.

"Isn't upstairs off-limits?" He asks, instead.

"No, only actors and organizers are allowed." Kaia replies, hurriedly.

As soon as these words came to his ears, his eyes glanced over at the dark second floor. "But there's no one there."

Kaia pauses for a minute. "I know, which is why he is there?"

"He?"

"Nick."

Hearing the name again made Taylor's eyes fall upon the crowd, reflexively, before realizing that he had just heard that the man was upstairs. Where he shouldn't be.

"Nick? What's he doing up there?" Taylor couldn't help the worry that slips in his words.

"I blindly bumped into him, and made him spill his drink on his shirt. It was a mess and I needed to take him away from the crowd, so the rooms upstairs were the last resorts." Kaia explains, guilt flashing in her eyes. "And we tried to be discreet, but there was press and -"

"Where is he now?" Taylor immediately cuts, his feet already moving towards the said direction, as Kaia points towards one of the spare room above.

He pushed through the crowd, forgetting to politely excuse himself as his heart raced a little too fast. Nick was there inside, alone, and by the look of Kaia, Taylor was absolutely sure that Nick wasn't holding himself up good.

Finally reaching at the door, Taylor prepares himself to knock, but withdraws his hand. Noisily, he opens the door, softly calling out at Nick.

"Nick?"

And he sees Nick. The charming, care-free man who had always tried to smile through everything and anything; the man who had not let life bring him down no matter what; the man who had sacrificed a lot to pursue acting - was crouched against a wall, with his head resting on his knees, crying.

A quick rush of anger brushes it's way through Taylor. He felt like burning down every person who had said whatever that had bothered Nick this much.

Nick must have not heard him the first time, so Taylor calls him out again. "Nick?"

Broken from the trance he was trapped in, Nick slowly raises his head. He blinks a few times to register who was calling him at this moment, before his wet eyes finally fell on Taylor's.

Widening his eyes, Nick scarmbles up to his feet. "What are you doing here?" He asks, as he methodically uses his hands to wipe out every remaining tear-lines on his face.

But Taylor was gone, upon seeing Nick's face. "The hell, Nick. What -" Taylor rushes forward to do something, when Nick only places a hand between them.

"I am fine." Nick says, very hardly.

"What happened?" Rooted in his spot, Taylor attempts to ask nicely, but his voice was laced with rage.

"It's nothing." Nick deadpans. 

Taylor doesn't push him anymore. Insead, he gives him a moment to settle down, and instead checks out the damage that his shirt had gone through. As Kaia had mentioned, it was true that a part of his shirt indeed had a bright red stain on it which had spread, and they were very visible on the collars. The place had dried up, and thus the stains were becoming more prominent.

"How did you know that I was here?" Nick asks again.

"I didn't." Taylor steps forward, and Nick immediately stops harrasing his face. "Imagine my surprise when Kaia comes and tells me that Nick is in trouble. Came to get you, my guy."

A ghost smile dances on Nick's lips, as he sighs. "I should have known Kaia would be sending backups."

But that was not what Taylor was concerned about. 

"Nick." Taylor gives up waiting. "Why were you crying?"

"It's nothing." Nick answers to early. "My shirt got ruined, that's all."

Taylor huffs at the lie. "Kaia told me there was press involved." And when Taylor sees the sigh in response, he feels like he found his opening. "You gotta tell me what happened, Nick."

Nick pauses a little, thinking about something. "Didn't she tell you the whole thing?"

"No, she didn't. But you will. Now." Taylor replies. "You weren't just freaking out because some shit drink got on your shirt. There's more, I know."

He sees Nick leaving the space he was in, as he starts walking back and forth. When Taylor had initially started modelling, a little mishap immediately used to make him spiral beyond relief. Thus, Taylor knew how Nick felt, so he let him pace. He was not going to pressurize him, atleast not when he was emotionally on an edge.

Nick finally stops, as he stares at the ground. "They said something about my very minimalist fashion career. They were talking amongst themselves and I over-heard stuff that I wasn't supposed to hear."

Another wave of fury passes through Taylor. "They were bitching about you?"

"Uh - yeah. In plain words, yeah." Nick runs a hand through his already messed up hair. "I know this is stupid, but when I had heard it, I couldn't stop it from affecting me. Foolishly I let the words get under my skin." He softly adds the last line, looking down.

Taylor very lightly walks towards Nick, making the latter look up at him. Nick's eyes were still glistening. Taylor wanted to drown those guys.

"They made you feel insecure." Taylor concludes, carefully weighing his words.

Nick winces a little at the word. "You could say that."

Those bastards.

"What do you want to do? Do you wanna leave?" He asks, because what else was he supposed to ask. "We can get access to some back doors or -"

"No." Nick responds immediately. "I have already heard stuff for leaving early, I am not doing it again."

"Nick -"

"No." Nick says firmly,  rubbing his temple like he was warding off a headache. "I am not leaving. I will stay in this damn room, if I have to, till the entire event finishes, and go out only when everyone has cleared out. But I am not going away early. I cannot."

Taylor could only sigh. He looked at the shirt again, and back at Nick's face. He knew how determined Nick was with his words, but Taylor just couldn't let him get crushed by his overflowing emotions. Definitely not infront of Taylor.

Suddenly an idea comes in his mind so fast, that he stops for a few seconds to process it. They had been so focused on everything else, that they hadn't seen the solution of the main problem which had been right infront of them all along.

Why hadn't he thought about it?

"Why didn't you come to me?" Taylor asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Ruined clothes didn't really give me any chance. And I didn't want to cause anyone any trouble."

The ever holy saint.

Taylor rolls his eyes. "Nick. I think I can fix your shirt." 

Nick stops waking altogether, and looks at Taylor as if he had grown two heads. "I have thought about every possible idea, and the answer is - we cannot fix it.

Determined, Taylor says, "You are stupid and I have an idea. Do you trust me?"

This time Nick rolls his eyes. "When have I not Taylor?"

"Good. Wait a bit." He takes out his phone and dials the required number. After three rings the call connects, and before the voice from the other end could come, Taylor speaks out. "How smoothly can you sneak in a white shirt, Jason?"

 

 

 

One of the best things about having Jason Bolden as Taylor's friend and stylist, was that he never asked questions immediately. He would probably ask them later, or would just leave them out altogether. Hence, he did the exact same thing this time. When Taylor had informed him that they were in one of the spare rooms, it had taken Jason ten minutes to arrange for a shirt and produce it infront of them.

He had, quite literally, smacked Nick's head for not contacting him after his wardrobe malfunction. Nick had shamelessly apologised before Jason helped him in getting prepped up again. It was also safe to say that Taylor had secretly eyed his body, when he changed. He didn't know why. 

Now, as they both came down the stairs, with Jason along, Taylor couldn't help but feel a little relieved. A large part of him got a little scared too, when he saw the wreck that Nick had started to become. He knew he couldn't thank Jason enough, for protecting Nick's dignity above everything else. Taylor would ask Jason just how he got the shirt later.

Biding a goodbye to Jason, and Nick thanking him again, both the guys let go of the stylist.

A thudding of a mic from the stage, almost shushes everyone in the musuem.

"I would like to thank everyone, who has made time out of their heavy schedule to attend our 3rd Anual Gala. There's going to be a few performances within a few minutes, so it's a request for everyone to kindly be seated in their respective tables. Delicacies will be served to you there. Please, enjoy the dinner." A representative of the union announces.

The boys made their way to the tables to search for their names, and when Taylor found his table, he laughed at the guy he would be sharing it with.

"Looks like you are stuck with me." Taylor bellows, as Nick checks his name in the parchment, beside Taylor's.

Nick fake gasps. "You are going to save me from another massacre then. Oh, what a day."

Taylor laughs again, at the lame mimicry Nick did, which reminded him of the time of filming. He missed those days where the only worry he had was to remember his lines. Much of the process of filming the entire movie, with some re-shots in January and February, made him realise how little he knew about a lot of things. He had learnt immense amount of things from many different people in the entire summer, especially with the help of Nick and Matthew - something he would never ever forget.

Nick snaps a finger infront of him, as he resurfaces. "It was me who went through a turmoil of shits. Why are you zoning out?"

"Looks like someone got their confidence back. And attitude." Taylor jokes, and gets a light slap on his back. 

Nick pauses whatever comeback he had planned, as he motions for Taylor to look at his right. "I think someone is trying to have your attention."

Taylor whips his head around at the said direction and almost laughs at Nick's choice of words. "God, you British men and your choice of expressions. That's Ben, one of the members of the event. And he has my wallet."

Nick frowns as he listens to his words. "I know who he is and I am not even going to ask why your wallet is travelling around. But go, he is calling you."

Taylor obliges, and slids past a few chairs to walk up to Ben. He didn't know much about him himself, except the fact that Ben was their when Taylor was getting papped, and he had passed his wallet to the latter when one of the photographers had asked him to. Slipping a little thanks, he hurried back to his seat, but got immediately stunned by the way Nick's face had hardened. His jaws were clenched, and his knuckles were white as he stared at a distance. 

The skid of the chair made Nick glance at Taylor, his expression unreadable. But before he could ask him what made his shoulders tense up again, some announcer, about whom he suddenly didn't give two shit about, cut him off.

Through out the show, Taylor had continued to pass worried glances at Nick. And everytime Nick looked like he was plotting something inside his head.

It was only when the event was almost over, and everyone was getting ready to leave and saying their final goodbyes, when Taylor felt Nick freezing up beside him for a moment. He throws a questioning look at him, but sees that Nick's eyes had stilled.

He was about to ask what was wrong but he was interrupted when the boys got approached by the a few peope that Taylor had showed distaste over. The group had three people now but Taylor distinctively remembered how he had talked with only two of them. He remembered Mark, the one who did the talking and Hierra who had just lsitened to there conversations without uttering a single word. 

"I see that the shirt has been fixed." One of them, whom Taylor had not seen before, tells to Nick. "Too bad I don't have Gavin with me."

Oh, it was him.

Taylor sees Nick only shrugging. "It's alright." He says shortly.

It was clear that Nick didn't want to be in the same space with them, so Taylor tries to politely excuse them both. "I hope you all had a great time."

But it seemed like Taylor's words were completely ignored. "Hey, the camera isn't here, but we could still talk." The guy says again, fishing out a dictaphone from his bag. "It's the first time we could catch you both together. Last time this one ran away."

Stanson laughed, pointing at Nick but Taylor didn't know whether to take it as a joke or not. Nick certainly didn't.

Humourlessly, Nick slipped out a laugh. "You are funny, Stanson."

Stanson must have not expected that, because he backs up immediately. Instead, he extends his hand to Taylor. "I am Stanson Johnes. This is -" Stanson starts introducing the rest of the group but Taylor interrupts him.

"We have already met." He hoped that his obvious detachment with what was about to happen did not reflect on his tone.

Mark and Heirra were entrepreneurs and they were planning on establishing a startup news outlet; they already had a chanel and had some thousand followers on social media. Thus, they were planning on launching their official channel in the marketplace. He had already known this much by spending the god awful time with them, but he didn't know Stanson. 

"Oh, that's lovely." Stanson beams as Heirra nods, still looking down at his phone. "Shall we start with you, Taylor?"

Exchanging a glance with Nick, Taylor could only shrug in repsonse.

"Yes, I suppose." Taylor says.

"What do you have to say about Jacob Elordi's statements regarding the Kissing Booth movies?" Stanson asks so smoothly and precisely, it makes Taylor wonder wether he had been waiting the entire time for this opportunity.

Quite frankly, Taylor had this question coming. "I have already answered it before. I really have nothing to say about it because it's his opinion and it can be different. But we should respect it, because it's his opinion."

Stanson pushes further. "Do you agree with his statement?"

"I respect it." Taylor answers briefly, because it was true. He really didn't care why Jacob had felt that the movies were ridiculous. For Taylor, the movies had been his way to enter the world of acting, and he would forever be grateful to them.

Seeing that he was not going to get any answer from Taylor, Stanson shifts his focus to Nick. "What do you think about his words?"

Was this guy serious?

Nick wasn't even a part of this film, so he had no right to answer any questions regarding that. Taylor could slowly recognize what Stanson was doing - He was trying to make a controversy to enter their name to the world.

Taylor absolutely hated it. 

He sees Nick, who has by then composed himself, slowly taking a step forward so his mouth was almost in alignment to the dictaphone.

"Can I ask you a question, if you don't mind?" Nick asks, inquisitively.

"Yeah." Stanson frowns. "Ofcourse, but this will be edited out though."

Tilting his head to a side, Nick says. "Good. What's the name of your channel?"

"The StarZ." Mark says, from his place beside Stanson."We also have a podcast, and we would love you to be in it."

"That sounds great. What kind of podcasts do you guys do?" Taylor didn't understand what Nick was trying to do, but he let him.

"Oh you know," Stanson says, ticking off his fingers. "Reviews of sorts, promotional -"

"Do you get paid to bitch about people behind there back?" Nick asks so suddenly, that it even makes Taylor snap his head at him. There was nothing on Nick's face, except a certain form of determination.

"Excuse me?" Stanson throws out, obviously stunned. Even Hierra stopped whatever he was typing to stare at Nick.

Nick takes another step forward. "Yeah, do you ask questions like 'Why does Taylor look like he is in love with everyone he shares the screen with?' or like 'Is he really part-Mexican, or does he say that just for clout?' You get paid for these, don't you?"

Baffled at Nick's words, because when had this even happened, Taylor lets out a small, "What?"

Stanson remains frozen in his spot. "What are you talking -"

"Are these your ways of constructive criticism? Enlighten us, please." Nick interrupts him, his eyes blazing with smugness in them.

Immediately, Mark takes the dictaphone from Stanson's frozen hand, and switches it off. "This interview is done here."

"Oh, no, no. It had only just begun." In a swift motion, Nick snatches the little machine from Mark's hand. Taylor looks around and is thankful that no one was noticing whatever was happening over here, too busy to chat away. "Taylor, did you know they were curious about the authenticity of your race? Please throw some light upon this."

Look, Taylor has always faced innumerable number of criticism, both healthy and unhealthy. And he had learnt to filter his mind accordingly. Right now, he didn't know what command to give his brains.

"Obviously, Nicholas is mistaken. I think he is -" Taking the advantage of Taylor's silence, Stanson starts and is promptly shut when Nick places a hand on his shoulder.

"I, don't give two flying fucks about whatever you think about me. And neither does Taylor.  So whatever excuse you have ready, just zip it." Nick says, his voice going a many decibel lower.

Frustrated with the sudden change of the scenario, Mark shoves Stanson behind him, and places himself infront of Nick. From afar, Taylor hoped that it didn't look like a storm was brewing over here.

"We don't want a commotion here." Mark says heavily.

"And neither do I." Nick says, his lips splitting into a sly grin. "Apologise to Taylor right now, and we will done."

Oh.

Finally Taylor could deduce what was happening. Nick was doing this for him. Taylor knew that he didn't need a knight in shining armour to save him. He had learnt to fight his own battles, and had been successful enough to make a barrier around him to shield himself from the hate. 

He had never quite imagined Nick to be the gaurd to his wall. Thus, the feeling of gratitude came without a warning.

"We have done nothing to apologise." Stanson says from behind them. 

Nick goes to take a step forward again, but Taylor swings his hand over his shoulders, stopping him. If he allowed Nick to do that, then he would almost be chest to chest with Mark, and it would appear just as it was to everyone around the room. 

"Don't Nick." Taylor warns. "There's still people around."

And Nick only slides a look at Taylor before focusing his attention back to the people infront. Taylor shuts up, but he doesn't remove his hand.

Looking at Stanson, Nick says. "You can deny all you want. It won't erase away the truth."

"Listen, whatever upper-hand you think you have, you are grossly mistaken." Marks warns, laying his hand out. "Give the dictaphone back."

If Taylor didn't have his hand over Nick's shoulder, he would never have believed that the latter was subtly quivering.

Placing what Mark wanted on his extended hand, Nick replies, amusedly. "Is this what you are worried about? Oh, don't be." He laughs, but holds onto the dictaphone when Mark tries to take his hand back. "There are thirteen cameras over here. Twenty six, if we are counting cameras outside, and many more if we are counting the entire building. Did you serious think this simple machine was my bait?"

Suddenly Nick sounded so wicked, with practicality mixed in his words that Taylor himself couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine.

Nick's words had so much bile in them, that it makes Mark cassually take a step back. "Is that a threat?"

"It is if you want it to be. Listen, to me carefully. It will not take me long to say a few words to a few people, and your entire career and your start-up company will go down in ruins before you can even comprehend what had happened to you." Nick seethes, while still having a manic grin on his face. Taylor found it strangely hot.

Stanson, eyes widened, says. "You can't do that."

"Try me." Nick says, "Whose word do you think the audience would believe? Perhaps, you have forgotten I am in a higher position than you, and this time I would like to take advantage of it. A selective amount of words on my instagram, and the internet would have your throat. It is incredibly simple."

Out of nowhere, Mark leaves out a mock laugh. "Oh, I am so scared. Nicely done, eh. You expect people to believe all these just by a few camera footages -"

"You want evidence?" It seemed as if this was the waiting that Nick had longed. Eyes twinkling, as if he had won a battle, he says, "Remember when you had suddenly become critics and had judged my fashion choices, I wasn't alone. Yes," Nick beams, as Stanson looks at him like a deer caught in headlight. "Didn't think I would hear that too right. Too bad I did. And Kaia Gerber did it too. Word of mouth is a big deal right, should I call her?"

Upon Stanson's inability to speak, Mark tries to retort but stops when a hand pulls him back. Hierra, finally, steps forward. He passes a look at Taylor before settling them on Nick.

"What exactly do you want?" He asks very calmly, his voice oddly strong and firm.

"Apologies." Nick replies, simply.

"What if we don't?"

"I will personally destroy your already non-existent company. Unemployment or apology, do the math yourseld." Looking dead in the eyes of Hierra, Nick answers.

Taylor shifts a little, as Hierra takes a good amount of time to roam his eyes around both the men. He remains silent for so long, that Taylor almost gives up waiting for a reply.

"I am sorry. I apologise for our behaviour." Hierra says at last, looking at Nick.

But Nick only shakes his head. "Don't apologise to me. Say sorry to Taylor. Individually." Nick emphasizes.

Without a complaint Heirra says the same words to Taylor. Taylor was atleast certain that he was different from the other two, because Heirra had to personally give them each a glare to do what Nick had asked them to.

As soon as Stanson very tightly, slips a sorry, Heirra stands infront of Nick. Extending his hand towards him, he says, "I hope we will not have a problem anymore."

Taking the hand, Nick replies. "As long as it doesn't happen again, we are good." Heirra nods, satisfied with his answer, before resuming his position at the back. Nick looks at Taylor. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Taylor doesn't wait a second. "Absolutely."

Without sparing a second look at the two men standing infront of them, fuming silently, Nick turns and leaves, making Taylor trudge behind him.

Taylor had attempted to ask Nick about whatever had just happened, but Nick only slipped out a little later. 

Thus, Taylor had waited. He waited till both of them had found Kaia and had assured her that none of this was her fault, and that everything was alright now. He waited till both of them had wished Julian Moore a beautiful birthday. He had waited till they said goodbye to Jason, and Nick had thanked him again. He had waited till they had hopped inside Nick's car, because he wanted them to chill at his hotel room. He had waited till both of them were sprawled on the couch, with beer bottles in their hands, their suits thrown over the bed, before asking again.

"Can we please talk about whatever happened back in the musuem. Like What the fuck was that? When did - Oh my God, I have so many questions." Taylor speaks hurriedly, unable to keep the curiosity inside him any longer.

Remember when you went to take your wallet. They were seated in the table behind us. They failed to be subtle, and I heard their ever beautiful talks." Nick replies nonchalantly, as if that was the most simple answer. 

"And you went all commando on them. With your words." Taylor joked but stopped when he looked at the seriousnes lingering in the eyes of Nick.

"I can tolerate anything said to me. I won't tolerate it when it's projected on my mates." Nick says, then adds. "I should have stopped them when they had commented on me. I didn't do that which, therefore, gave them another chance to bash about you."

The feeling of gratitude comes again. "You could have told me, Nick."

When Nick only looks at Taylor, he is surprised to find the appreciative look Nick gives him. "You did so much for me. This was the least I could do for you."

"Thankyou." Taylor says, feeling uncharacteristically warm. "But seriously, who do you know who can get access to the footages of here?"

This time Nick finally laughs, "No one. C'mon Taylor I am actor, I had to make them believe it."

Taylor gawked at him. "Those were lies?"

"Do you have any idea how tight the security of this place is. It's the Academy Museum, after all."

"Oh my God, you are a fucker. You made me believe it." Taylor says, laughing at his own stupid mind. 

Nick only smirks. "Guess, I am a great actor after all."

Taylor rolls his eyes, but he couldn't stop the grin that spreads across his face. "Sure, only for a day."

"It's been a long day." Nick says, stretching his arms over the couch.

Taylor had very rarely seen the protective side of Nick, but he had envied how strongly Nick felt about his friends. Taylor had never thought anyone could be so protective of him, untill today.

Suddenly feeling obliged, Taylor says. "Hey, thankyou. Really." He says, looking straight at Nick. He hoped his eyes showed the same things he was feeling.

He only got the confirmation that his eyes had not betrayed him, when Nick reciprocated the same look, and replied. "Anytime."

After that they had immediately went into another string of stories and laughter. And if Taylor had inched a little closer towards Nick, no one had to know.

 

Notes:

A big thankyou to everyone who had commented, left kudos and had loved this little peice of work.
And thankyou again, Fernanda. Do let me know whenever you get any other ideas ❤️.